Beasts of Burden
by Lady Veratine
Summary: Rohan hates all elfkind. Legolas is captured, and becomes lower than a slave. Aragorn must save him and the others, before all the elves fall to this doom. NOT SLASH. 1st LOTR fic. CHAPTER 5 UP
1. The Bridle

DISCLAIMER ~ I own none of the characters that J. R. R. Tolkein invented, only the ones that *I* invented. The ideas are solely mine so PLEASE ASK PERMISSION if you ever decide that you want to use this general plot. I don't know if anyone else has ever done this idea, so if you have then I apologise.  
  
NOTE ~ This is a Legolas/Aragorn fic, but it IS NOT SLASH, so if you don't like that kinda thing then you're okay. Also, the story is set in Rohan after the Great Drought and Fire (which is my invention), the whole One Ring business and the Fellowship and all that has not happened yet (and will not in this fic) but orcs etc. are still playing up and causing havoc. Aragorn and Legolas are best friends (IN A NON-SLASHY KINDA WAY). Elvish translations re at the end of the chapter.  
  
Right, on with the show. . .  
  
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Chapter One ~ The Bridle  
  
The sun sat low in the sky, like a great fat egg yolk in a pool of bloody water. Vast downy clouds crowned the light source, their bellies glowing orange and their tops remaining grey. Legolas sat quietly upon Brïona, a mighty palomino mare. Both stared down at the land below in silence. Neither seemed to notice the gentle thud of hooves as Aragorn pulled Brego to a halt beside them.  
  
Rohan had become a dismal place. Not a drab kind of dismal, but a parched and dead kind of dismal. The visage of the country was yellow and dry, there was little grass left in the ground, and where there was not grass enormous cracks cleaved the dusty floor. The Great Drought and Fire had been the doom of Rohan, the sharp downfall. Their horses, which brought the king and his people so much pride, had all but dropped dead like flies from some unidentified disease, most likely to have been brought by the orcs. Now there less than ten left in the whole country.  
  
From the east came a murmur that Sauron was rising, and the orcs of Middle Earth were spurred to needs of greater malicious acts, and rampaged across the lands, burning and slaughtering all the way. Rohan, for some reason or the other, seemed to attract the attention of the beasts, probably because it's king was so unsuspecting. At this time a terrible drought was sent by the evil powers of Sauron, and upon arrival the orcs set the entire country ablaze. Now Rohan was nought but a wretched desert.  
  
Legolas turned his eyes away from the landscape and stared at Brïona's pale golden ears, an immense sense of guilt swallowing him up. The elves of Mirkwood and Lórien had turned a blind eye to the situation. Why should we help them? They are strong enough to fend for themselves. Though the elves knew not of the drought. This ignorance had cost them the old allegiance and many innocent lives, and had earned the passionate hate of Rohan.  
  
Since then elves had been disappearing all over the place. No one knew why or where they went. Neither knowledge nor body was ever found of the vanished ones. It was only the other week that Haldir, the dear friend of Aragorn and Legolas, had become one of these unfortunate elves. Legolas was beginning to wonder why he had agreed to accompany Aragorn through Rohan and on to Edoras, sent by Mithrandir and Lord Elrond to pose questions to Théoden King about the disappearances. Any other elf may think that Legolas had a death wish.  
  
'Aragorn,' said Legolas, 'The sun will set soon, we must find some shelter.'  
  
The rugged and unshaven man nodded, the grimness set like granite upon his handsome and weathered face. Without any sort of confirmation the elf and man pulled their steeds about before galloping away. Across the orangey yellow terrain they flew like hawks upon the wing. Legolas' silken hair swept out behind him, Aragorn's dirty locks fluttered madly. Over the dead hills and through the dusty dells chased the man and elf. A while later they came to a deep gorge, and raced along the lip, many large boulders and ledges provided a challenging way down. Caves and so on would offer excellent refuge, but in these days who knows what could be hiding down there.  
  
A sound reached the pointed ears of Legolas. The sound of another horse's hooves. It mingled with the steady beat of Brego's and Brïona's to such an extent that even Aragorn had not heard it. Legolas chanced and glance over his shoulder and saw not one horse and rider, but three, and several others far behind. The riders were obviously men of Rohan; their shining helmets were engraved with swift horses and the nosepieces looked akin to the head of a horse. The black stallion of the leading rider let out a harrowing bray.  
  
At this Aragorn looked over his shoulder, and saw the men too. He saw the savage snarls and the wide mad eyes and he knew.  
  
'Legolas!' he cried. 'They come for you my friend!'  
  
Legolas gave absolutely no indication that he had heard Aragorn, but kept his hard, pale eyes ahead, spurring Brïona on with his heels and words. Even so, Aragorn knew the elf had heard him. Suddenly the man of Rohan on his dark steed came galloping up between Brego and Brïona, separating them. His silver helmet flashed orange in the rays of the setting sun. Aragorn gave vent to a mighty roar, drawing his sword. The other merely sneered and veered his horse into Legolas. Brïona squealed as she slipped over the edge, struggling to find her balance on the rocks. Being an elvish horse she quickly steady herself. Above came the sound of the pursuing men, their horses gracefully leaping down from ledge to ledge, the thuds of hooves and the clashing of swords echoed around the deep ravine. Briona and Legolas had no choice but to make their way down, and to escape along the bottom of the canyon, hoping to find a way up and out again.  
  
They reached the dusty floor, closely followed by four men and their horses. The chase was long and tiring for the golden mare, she had been riding with her master and friends for five days now, and she missed her young foal at home. Nonetheless she threw herself into her swiftest gait and left the evil ones far behind. At last the bright red blades of sun cut through the semi-darkness from the right of the deep chasm, and tumbled down rocks and boulders made a perfect way up again.  
  
Legolas did not need to steer his horse, she saw the exit as well as he did. She reached the bottom of the way out and leapt up on the first rock as elegantly as a spirit. From there on the going was easy, but the men's horses were powerful and fleet of foot too, and they could be heard close behind. All of a sudden the crimson rays were broken and Legolas looked up. It was Aragorn. He was but a silhouette against the scarlet sky, his sword was drawn and his cloak was visibly ripped as it fluttered. Legolas managed a small smile. Aragorn certainly had the noble stance that was worthy of a king.  
  
The elf and his horse were almost at the top, as were the men. Just a couple more leaps and then they would be away like Shadowfax with wings on his hooves. The cleared one of the last boulders, Legolas could see Aragorn's regal face and the blood on his knitted brow, Brïona prepared for her final jump. Then the face of the man fell and something entered Legolas' vision. It was a lasso, the woven fibres gleaming orange, and it pulled back around the elf's neck. Aragorn cried out in dismay as the rope was pulled tight and suddenly, causing Legolas choke in a dreadful manner. His head whipped back and he was pulled right out of the saddle, and sent falling into the shadowy abyss. Aragon flinched as he heard his friend hit the floor. The frosty hand of shock had grasped his heart and sent icy water through his every vein.  
  
Far below he heard Legolas struggling and choking, and could just make out his body in the dimness, fighting with several others. Snarling he brandished his sword and prepared to rescue his friend, but a shout from Legolas stopped him.  
  
'Rima mellonamin! Rima ten'ta!'  
  
Aragorn ignored the cries and carried on.  
  
'Rima!' Legolas called. 'Kela! Nurta! Ta naa neuma!'  
  
Still the cries went unheeded.  
  
'Lle rangwa amin? KELA!'  
  
At last Aragorn had to listen. The commands and pleads were swimming in desperation, but the pain was so evident.  
  
Legolas saw Aragorn halt halfway down the rubble and reluctantly turn back, returning to the summit. Sometimes that man could be so stubborn. A painful blow was unexpectedly delivered to his back, and Legolas crumpled over. More lassos were thrown over him in his moment of weakness; his fair and pale hands were bound behind him. The prince of Mirkwood did not know if these were Riders of Rohan, but he guessed it so, for horses in these lands were rare, and there were several present.  
  
Then much to the elf's offence one of his antagonists reached out and grasped his arm and prodded it's whole length, feeling his muscles.  
  
'This one is strong, ' he said matter-of-factly. 'He will fetch us several weeks of rations and new shoes for the horses.'  
  
The others murmured approvingly, most coming forward and inspecting Legolas' muscles for themselves. Another spoke up.  
  
'It's a pity we didn't get his horse. She was an elvish one, we could have got *gold* for her.'  
  
'Gold is useless now!' the first man growled. 'And who needs horses these days with the new trade. . . We're killing three birds with one stone. The army gets their beasts of burden, we get our food and supplies, and the elves get what they bloody well deserve!'  
  
Legolas listened to all of this with mounting dread. What on middle-earth was the new trade? What beasts of burden? What did the elves get that they deserved? Perhaps this was the answer to his earlier question, to the national question. Where have all the elves gone? Then it was as though a mighty boulder had thudded to the pits of his stomach. He was one of the unfortunate ones. He was now one of the many elves that went disappearing.  
  
The leader rounded on Legolas, bearing down on him like a famished warg.  
  
'Fetch The Bridle,' he commanded.  
  
One of the others hurried to fetch The Bridle and handed it over. Legolas was dragged to his feet roughly, his throat throbbing from rope burn. He stared with wide eyes at The Bridle. It was like a normal bridle, but made to fit a human or elf. There was metal collar, which was fastened around hi neck, which the men found difficult because Legolas struggled so much. At last an almighty smack around the face stilled him, and he let the men bridle him without further trouble. The leather straps were buckled up around his striking face, and the rein was given to the hand of the leader. A tall and burly member of the band, Banes was his name, buckled one of the straps so tightly around the back of Legolas' head that he cried out in pain.  
  
'Banes, you fool!' cried the leader. 'He is expensive! We need to ensure that he reaches the camp in top condition!'  
  
He stomped over and undid the strap, pulled the soft hair from the metal fastener, and did it up again carefully. Banes scowled at his hypercritical master. When done the boss of the group stood before Legolas. His hair was dark compared to the others', and he wore the stubble and dirt of many days travel. His clothes that must have been fine in the better days were muddy and ripped. He stared stonily into the eyes of the elf.  
  
'Come!' he called to his men. 'We make for the camp!' With the rein of The Bridle still in his hand he leapt into the saddle of his horse. He glared at Legolas again. 'You will walk.' He said, low and threateningly. 'You will not talk. You will not eat. Will provide you with water but that is it. Until we reach the camp *I* am your master. You will do as *I* say and you *will not* complain.' He pulled his cape aside to reveal a bullwhip coiled at his belt. 'Need I say more, elf?' He spat the last word out like badly brewed ale.  
  
The others mounted and they all set of at a brisk walk, climbing up the way that Legolas had tried to escape. The Bridle was uncomfortable, and it chafed the elf's smooth face. Ignoring the orders of the man, Legolas spoke up.  
  
'What is your name?'  
  
'I TOLD YOU NOT TO SPEAK!' he roared. 'But it is a fair question. I am Rularian.'  
  
Legolas scowled. I hate you, Rularian, he said inside his mind.  
  
'I will not ask of *your* name, elf. You no longer have a name. You are an elf. You are the dregs of the dirtiest things in this world. You will come to understand this in time, my profitable companion, and you will spent the rest of your infinite life paying for your coldness during The Great Drought and Fire.'  
  
Legolas bowed his head in thought and shock. How many other elves had to go through this before him? He feared the camp with an unwanted passion, not even knowing why, for whatever the camp may be was out of his vast knowledge. He looked up to the fading sky, the stars beginning to wink in the dark folds, and he wondered how many other elves were staring at these same stars.  
  
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AN: Well that's the beginning of my first LOTR fic. I hope you like it. Review and tell me what you think. If you're thinking what a dick-end Aragorn is for leaving Legolas then don't think that. . . I'm saying nothing else. Chapter 2 up ASAP, but I am also working on my Harry Potter fic, so updates for both fics may be quite far apart.  
  
Elvish translations:  
  
Rima mellonamin! Rima ten'ta! = Run my friend! Run for it!  
  
Kela! Nurta! Ta naa neuma! = Go away! Hide! It is a trap!  
  
Lle rangwa amin? KELA! = Do you understand me? GO AWAY! 


	2. Counting Lashes

DISCLAIMER ~ Same as last time. I don't own J. R. R. Tolkien's stuff.  
  
THANKS TO ~  
  
~ Lux-saop - you are the best!  
  
~ orligurl88 - glad to know you liked it!  
  
~ Star-Stallion - also glad to know that you liked it!  
  
~ LOTRFaith - How is it confusing? Oh well, you found it interesting. That's good enough for me!  
  
~ Listless - Don't worry, Aragorn will appear.  
  
~Elenillor - Stop being so nit-picky, I'm a dyslexic 14 year old so lay off me. And we'll just pretend that there's *another* horse called Brego.  
  
~Rabbit of Iron - Wow, a tough bunny. Well you keep those beady little eyes on me coz I'm writing as often as I can.  
  
~bunny-luver - Jesus on a bike! It's another bunny person! Thanks for putting me on your favourite stories list!  
  
~Irish QT - Bloody Hell, now I've seen 'em all.  
  
NOTE ~ (. . . . . .) = elvish, coz I can't be bothered to write out all the elvish anymore. Aren't I delightfully lazy?  
  
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Chapter Two ~ Counting Lashes  
  
Nights and days had come and gone like the passing of an eagle's shadow over the land. Legolas had been marching with the men for almost a week now, and was beginning to wonder where on Middle Earth this camp was. He had been running many questions through his mind while the Bridle scratched his face, what was going to happen to him? How many other elves were at the camp? Where was Aragorn? Why me? Will Haldir and any others I know be there?  
  
He was suddenly dragged out of his thoughts and disposed of upon the dusty ground. He looked about and saw that they had joined another group of men who were sitting about a small fire roasting what appeared to be mice and small birds. Out of the warm and orange glow he saw three figures sitting on the floor, all huddled close together, and all tethered by chains that were closely linked to those of the one next to them. Rularian watched Legolas as he eyed the three, before yanking at the rein.  
  
'Come, elf,' he growled. 'You will join them in the dirt.' And he dragged Legolas over and threw him to the floor with ease, as the elf saw no need to struggle and fight. While his face was on the ground Legolas saw that the woeful trio were elves, one may have been of Lórien or Mirkwood, the other two were of Rivendell, easily distinguished by their dark hair. They were very dishevelled and grimy. He also saw the congealed blood upon their faces and the dying glint of hope in their pale eyes. Rularian shoved Legolas so that he was sat next to the others.  
  
'Banes!' he cried. 'The manacles! Now!'  
  
Banes rushed to fetch the manacles. They were clamped onto Legolas' ankles and fastened to the shackles of the elf by him. An extension was added to the already long rein of The Bridle and clipped securely onto Rularian's belt, so that he would know if the elf tried to escape. Then the leader of the men went to join his companions by the fire, laughing loudly and telling rude jokes. Legolas turned to the other elves.  
  
'(What is your name?)' he asked of the nearest.  
  
The elf did not reply, but looked up at Legolas through doleful eyes.  
  
'(Haldir! My friend!)' exclaimed Legolas. He had not recognised his friend, the blood, dirt and messy hair disguised his true looks. He looked to the other elves and gasped.  
  
'(Elladan! Elrohir! Are you all right? What happened?)'  
  
Elladan spoke.  
  
'(Haldir came out of Lothlórien to send a message to our father, and on his return to Lórien we, me and Elrohir that is, decided to accompany him, as we had not seen the Wood for many years. W e rode out far one day, right to the borders of Rohan, and the men captured us.)'  
  
Elladan fell silent and gazed at the ground, Elrohir was lost in another world and Haldir bit his lip and closed his sad eyes. Legolas stared miserably at his beloved friends. They were once full of life, brimming over with energy, and now they had been reduced to pitiful wrecks of sorrow. He looked over at Rularian and his men. They seemed to be trying to set each other's hair on fire, and they were all laughing loudly about it. The fair face of Legolas was now a terror to look upon, angry storms churned madly in his eyes, his perfect teeth were slightly bared and the loathing and rage shaded his face like the dark night.  
  
At this point Rularian seemed to sense the elf's gaze and he glanced over. He caught the hateful stare and his face fell ever so slightly. His eyebrows flickered with uncertainty before he turned back to his folly. Legolas watched. The man swatted away Banes' hand as he tried to set his hair on fire, and roared a command to shut up when the other laughed deafeningly in his donkey like way. The elf prince sneered with grim pleasure as Rularian ordered his men to sleep and for Banes to keep a look out. With a growl the dark haired man lay upon the floor and pulled his cloak about him, his back to the four elves. The long leash between him and Legolas lay slack across the dust.  
  
**************************************************************************** ********  
  
Aragorn pulled Brego to a halt as he spotted an orange glint in the distance. Brïona came up beside them, whinnying softly for her master. Deciding that it worth a look Aragorn kicked his steed and sent him off at a speedy canter down the rolling hill, with the elvish horse close behind.  
  
It did not take long for the three to reach the source of the small glow, and when Aragorn saw all the men lying asleep and the one who seemed to be keeping a look out he slid deftly out of the saddle. He crept with all his acquired elvish stealth around the fire, trying to see if Legolas was nearby. His heart leapt to his throat when he heard a particularly loud snore. Aragorn glanced about and sighed when he saw that it was just the look out, who sat hunched up, mumbling in his sleep.  
  
'Aragorn!'  
  
He almost jumped right out of his skin at the sound of his name being hissed, but smiled in exasperation and relief when he saw that it was Legolas. He hurried over to where his elvish friend lay and knelt beside him, exclaiming silently as he recognised his brothers and Haldir. He looked up at Legolas with questioning eyes and gasped at the sight of The Bridle. The soft, pale skin beneath the straps was red and chafed, as was the skin around his neck under the metal collar. He followed the length of the rein with his eyes and saw Rularian curled up on the floor by his men. On the belt he saw the buckle where the rein was attached, and he saw a ring with keys on it. Legolas saw what Aragorn was looking at.  
  
'You will have to get them,' he whispered. 'This may be the only chance you will get to free us.'  
  
Aragorn nodded and sneaked towards the sleeping man. He came to the side of Rularian and peered over his shoulder. He saw the other's face, stern and frowning even in sleep. He looked down to the leather belt and saw the keys. To get the keys Aragorn would have to undo Rularian's belt, which was sure to wake him up. However, Aragorn was willing to do anything to free his friends and brothers, so he reached out a tentative hand and began to undo the buckle.  
  
Legolas could not see what was happening, as Aragorn's form blocked his view. After many long minutes the elf heard the pleasant jingle of keys and decided that he should wake Elladan, Elrohir and Haldir. Aragorn slinked over noiselessly, holding the keys in both hands so that they made no clatter. Rularian was still slumbering deeply. The other three elves were rousing from their wide-eyed sleep, blinking and looking surprised to see Aragorn, with the keys to freedom in his coarse hands.  
  
The man smiled as he knelt down, cherishing the look of immense hope and happiness on the elves' faces. He picked a random key and tried it in the lock of Legolas' shackles. It was the wrong one. He hastily turned to another, trying to make no noise at all. He placed it into the lock and turned; it was the correct key. Legolas almost made a serious mistake, and paused, as he was just about to stand up, remembering the leash attached to Rularian's belt. He dropped silently to his knees, asking for Aragorn's dagger to cut it with, for Damarlen, another member of the band, had taken his own elvish dagger way. Aragorn handed the weapon over and proceeded to try and free the other elves.  
  
Then there was pandemonium.  
  
Brïona and Brego had ventured close to the sleeping lookout, probably curious as to why he was sleeping such an odd stance, slouching in the sitting position, his head lolled back and his mouth wide open, seeming to be gawping in awe at the starry sky. Brïona, the more daring of the two, had attempted to nab the chunk of bread from Banes' hand, which he had fallen asleep with. The horse had only succeeded in biting the man's fingers. He awoke with an almighty bellow, leapt to his feet and struck out blindly. The others were immediately awoken, and every pair of sleepy eyes were fixed upon Aragorn, who was knelt beside their captives, trying to free them.  
  
Rularian bounded to his feet, cursing sinfully when his belt fell down. Taking this chance Legolas sprinted off, hoping to create a diversion in order to give Aragorn a chance to free Elladan, Elrohir and Haldir. The rein with the belt at the other end scraped noisily over the rocks and dead grass. Banes had thrown himself at Aragorn, battling him for the keys, kicking and punching when he could. Damarlen had drawn his bow and fired three well-aimed shots at the situation. Two hit the floor and one landed in Aragorn's arm. Elrohir snarled, foreseeing that this matter would not end well.  
  
'(Go Estel! They will kill you!)'  
  
Growling in his pain and clutching his wounded arm Aragorn heeded his wise brother and dashed away, whistling for Brego and Brïona. He jumped into the saddle.  
  
'(Brïona! To you master!)'  
  
The elegant palomino did not need telling twice, she galloped away after Legolas, braying to the night. The whole band was fully awake now, and every bow was at the ready with an arrow. Aragorn dug his heels into Brego's sides and they flew into the darkness. Not a single arrow hit them.  
  
'DAMARLEN! LANDAN! GET THAT ELF BACK!'  
  
Damarlen and Landan rushed to their horses, a grey and a chestnut, mounting swiftly and careering after Legolas. Rularian grumbled, doing his best to stop his breeches from falling to his ankles. He glared furiously at the three elves that were still chained to each other on the floor. They averted their eyes. Not much time had passed before Damarlen and Landan returned, with Legolas following, the rein in Landan's hand. Rularian strolled over, his wrath evident, and snatched his belt and donned it once again. He wrapped his strong hand around the neck of Legolas and gripped it tightly.  
  
'You stupid bastard!' he whispered like a snake.  
  
'There is no need to bring my parentage into this,' came the cool reply.  
  
Rularian roared and flung the elf to the ground.  
  
'Bind his hands!' he barked, his voice shaking with fury.  
  
Banes came forward and bound Legolas' hands together above his head. Rularian bent down and ripped the garments from the elf's back. He took the coiled bullwhip from his belt and shook it out to it's full length. Haldir and the sons of Elrond looked on in horror. Sensing what was going to happen Legolas attempted to get to his feet and run.  
  
'Hold him down!'  
  
Three men pushed Legolas to the ground again, where he was then made to lie on his belly, and one stood on his hands and the other two held his legs down. Rularian strutted over, smiling cruelly.  
  
'For your stupidity and disobedience, plus the fact that you are an elf, you will receive one hundred lashes of the whip. But I am not good with numbers so. . . you will have to count for me.'  
  
He snickered in an evil way and delivered the first stroke. Legolas cried out and bit hard on his lip.  
  
'One. . .'  
  
And again.  
  
'Two. . .'  
  
Rularian sneered.  
  
'Three. . .'  
  
The whip placed its searing kiss on his back for the fourth time, the dark blood glistening orange in the dying embers of the fire. In his pain Legolas did not count. Rularian whipped him again, and again until Legolas finally uttered the number.  
  
'Four. . .'  
  
'Five. . .'  
  
'Six. . .'  
  
'Seven. . .'  
  
And this went on into the darkest depths of the night. Legolas missed many numbers, and received many more than one hundred strokes of the bullwhip because of this. Counting lashes was torture, but Legolas had absolutely no idea what was going to happen to him at the camp - and Rularian did. He smiled, and carried on lashing with a malicious passion.  
  
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AN ~ Hurrah! Chapter Two after about ten thousand years. Hope you like it! Tell me what you think *hint hint*. Sorry updates are so far apart, I am entering the two very important years of my school life, and homework CANNOT be skipped. So you will just have to be patient. Chapter Three up ASAP. 


	3. The Silence of Dim Jim

DISCLAIMER ~ Same as last time. I don't own J. R. R. Tolkien's stuff.  
  
THANKS TO ~  
  
~ Lux-soap ~ you didn't review but you're the best so I'll mention you anyway!  
  
~ Devie Saves ~ Thanks for the suggestion (not constructive criticism, *suggestion*). I tried to make it more descriptive but you'll have to tell me if I really did or not. :D  
  
~ bunny-luver ~ Funny that. You say I'm descriptive, Devie Saves says I need to make it a little more descriptive. Isn't it funny how different people see things? Yeah, the whip is pretty common. But it's convenient for Rularian to have about.  
  
~ orligurl88 ~ Yes, poor Legolas. But he will have revenge!  
  
~ Wilwarin ~ Good style? Never really thought about my style. What's RPG? Aren't there different types of elvish? Oh I don't know, I'm confuzzed now.  
  
~ MoroTheWolfGod ~ Do mean the 'last chapter' as in 'chapter one'? Yeah, that was inspired by Spirit. In fact the whole story is inspired by that film. So you may see some similarities later on.  
  
~ Rabbit of Iron ~ Thanks for being my beta! I've already said thanks but I'll say it again. Thanks!  
  
~ Elenillor ~ You're probably not there but I suppose I should thank you. Without that review/flame then Rabbit of Iron would not have sent me that review, and I would not have replied, and then I wouldn't have a beta. No one can get to me; I always look on the bright side of life. *starts whistling the tune*  
  
~ lulu bell ~ Aragorn is about somewhere. We will see him later!  
  
~ LOTRFaith ~ Confusing? I suppose it could be. :D  
  
NOTE ~ (. . . . . .) = elvish  
  
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Chapter Three ~ The Silence of Dim Jim  
  
The red and orange blaze poured over the lifeless landscape of Rohan, flooding everything in warm colour and sending long dark shadows about where there stood dead trees and boulders. The morning had come far too early for Legolas' liking. He lay in a dreadful state on the ground; the brown grass and dust scratched his underside in an uncomfortable manner. Every sound echoed deafeningly in his ear. The scrape of a dagger and flint became the screech of nails on a blackboard; the bray of a horse became the scream of a terrible beast. He could bear it no longer; the pain of everything pulled him down, making his temples throb. The pain of losing his freedom, the pain being weak enough to lose his freedom, the pain in his head and back.  
  
Legolas cried out in anguish, a long fathomless sound that strummed the heart strings of his fellow elves. They stared upon their broken comrade, tethered to the sandy ground so that he could not move properly, but still struggling against his binds, growling and hollering in all his elvish rage. The blood from the gashes on his back had congealed to a thick reddish-brown sludge and his incessant writhing brought new blood to add to what was already there. The prince's voice was spent and he was reduced to deep gasps and sighs, as though he had just been pulled from deep waters.  
  
Rularian eyed Legolas as he sat with his back to a boulder, his legs stretched out before him and his cloak drawn about him. Spiteful delight pulled at the corners of his lips. He caught the elf's glare of misery and hate. His smiled broadened and became a tooth-bearing grin. The man had broken the elf before it had even reached their destination. He would be paid highly for saving the men at The Camp a fair few weeks of trouble. The other three did not seem to need any harsh breaking; their souls had given up by now.  
  
He climbed to his feet, stretching and yawning, and he pulled a leather hip flask from his side. He saw the elves gaze longingly at it as he pulled the stopper out and took swigs of the water within. They had not consumed any liquid for a least a day and they were very thirsty. Rularian was tempted to just pack up and head them all on without giving his slaves anything to drink but they needed to be in reasonably good condition before they came to The Camp. He glanced at the back of Legolas and wondered. He was in quite bad form now, and despite the fact that he was broken Rularian was now worried that he might not get the full price due to the elf's injuries. Perhaps he should try and heal it.  
  
'Damarlen, fetch the healing herbs.'  
  
The lanky man looked up in confusion, but did not dare to question his master's request and stalked away to get the plants from the saddlebag. Rularian turned around.  
  
'Landan, get some water for them.'  
  
Unlike Damarlen, Landan did not think his master's request was odd, as he always had to get the elves some drink. He scurried off with some shallow pans to the vast supply of water from the huge leather pouches that were carried by their donkey, which had been given the eloquent name of 'Dim Jim'.  
  
Damarlen quickly returned with the healing herbs and handed them to Rularian. The leader took them and knelt by Legolas. At this point Landan came back with the water, trying not to spill it, and he set the pans carefully beside the leading man. Using a large piece of dampened cloth Rularian cleaned the blood off, causing the elf prince to hiss in pain. The man spoke up so that all four elves could hear him.  
  
'We will reach the camp today. You must look clean and neat, otherwise we will not be paid the price that we deserve for catching you. As I have said before you will not speak unless you are spoken to. You will do as you are told to do. You do not have names. You are vermin.'  
  
Rularian paused and applied some sticky mashed herbs to Legolas' wounds.  
  
'I will heal you so that you will be fit to do The Camp's work and this day I will give you water *and* food. You must be strong and fetch us a high price.'  
  
The elves listened to this with dread. What kind of work would they be required to do? Legolas closed his eyes in despair yet relief was on his fair face. The cool water soothed his cuts and he could feel the herbs working their magic. He looked into the distance, eyeing the ridges of the rolling hills for any sign of Aragorn but he was not to be seen. Again his eyelids drooped and he waited patiently for Rularian to finish his work. When that was so Legolas was unbound and dragged to his feet, though he still had to wear that wretched Bridle.  
  
'Banes, clean him up. Get that dirt off him.'  
  
Banes glared. His face was covered in bruises, such was the severity of Rularian's punishment for falling asleep while he was on lookout. Smothering his grudge he grasped Legolas' arm and marched him over to Dim Jim before pouring some water over the elf's head and face. Rularian was now healing the other elves and ordering the other men to wash them up. Rularian wiped the residue of the herbs from his hands, standing to his full height and stared at each of his elvish slaves. Two were twins, with dark brown hair and sharp, wise faces. Their clothes, which were now tattered and dirty, would have looked grand before and their hair was twisted into a rather more fancy version of the hunter's braid. In spite of what he had told them about not having names he stepped forwards and questioned them.  
  
'You two!' he growled at them. 'What are your names?'  
  
The twins looked perplexed and slightly apprehensive. They exchanged glances and then answered.  
  
'Elladan,' said one.  
  
'And Elrohir,' said the other.  
  
'We are the sons of Elrond.'  
  
Rularian's eyebrows shot up in surprise and joy.  
  
'The sons of Elrond?' he repeated breathlessly. 'The Half-elven?'  
  
A pair of nodding heads was his answer. It was too late to deny what they had said. Rularian grinned wickedly. Twins, the sons of the renowned Half- eleven of Rivendell. . . They would fetch a very high price! He turned his attention to the quiet one with blonde hair.  
  
'And you?'  
  
The elf looked up.  
  
'Haldir of Lórien. Captain of the Guard.'  
  
Rularian was not so delighted about this as he was after the twins, but Haldir was strong and mild, that was still good. At last he turned to the one that had been punished the night before. He did not need to say anything; the elf knew what to do.  
  
'Legolas,' he said through gritted teeth. He then held his head high. 'Prince of Mirkwood.'  
  
Rularian's eyes almost popped out of his skull. Then he laughed out loud and clear. He would be rolling in years of rations! He was in possession of some incredibly expensive slaves. He grinned and strode away, packing his things with much enthusiasm. He looked up at his men, the glee radiated from his eye like star shine.  
  
'Pack up!' he called. 'We will make it to The Camp by late afternoon!'  
  
He bent down and picked up his sword, which he had left briefly to inspect the elves. It was his habit to inspect his sword, as he was very fond of it. He tossed it and it sang beautifully as it cleaved the air. Catching it by the hilt, he returned it to its scabbard on his side.  
  
'We have four extremely pricey and tame elves!'  
  
At this remark Legolas could not suppress a grim sneer. Let them think that he was broken, that his soul was shattered. Even if they knew that he *was* the prince of Mirkwood they did not know that he was not actually tame like they had first believed. Legolas had no clue as to what waited at The Camp but he would make it very difficult for the slavers.  
  
Banes came over to him and grabbed him by the arms and marched him to his horse, for Banes always rode at the back of the horse train. Elladan, Elrohir and Haldir were also taken over. It was a standard procedure now, to be tied to Banes' horse and then have the others tied behind him one after the other. On some occasions when Dim Jim was being lazy they would tie the donkey to the last elf, to prevent him from lagging behind and to make it extra difficult for any elf to escape. This was done that day, and Dim Jim was braying in his donkey way, making everybody groan and stop their ears.  
  
'Shut him up!' cried Rularian.  
  
Banes nodded and began to walk over to the donkey but before he got there Legolas turned and fixed the animal with a glare and a raised eyebrow, as though Jim was a young child. The powerful vibes that said 'shut up' hit Jim and he was silenced immediately, his large ears pricked up in surprise. Banes stopped and turned around with a grin, obviously thinking that *he* was the cause of the beast's silence. Rularian, on the other hand, had seen the whole thing and it had caused him to wonder. Did all elves have this potent authority over animals or were they just in touch with nature, on the same wavelength of understanding so to speak? He returned his eyes to the distance ahead, where The Camp lay, biting his lip and still thinking. He knew that elves were very deep creatures, and that they were very wise and meditative. That raised eyebrow expression and Dim Jim's surprise played through his mind again. Could this hushed dominance have an effect on humans as well as animals?  
  
Rularian shook the thought from his mind. He dread to think what would happen if those elves at The Camp got loose in their condition. It would become a bloodbath, bits of dead men lying everywhere, elves with blood smeared across their mouths and hands. . . He shuddered. No. That would never happen. He twisted in the saddle to take another look at the prince and found himself coming eye to eye with it. The elf's stare was sharp and knowing, as though he had been reading the man's mind. Rularian whipped his head around and rested his eyes upon the ears of his horse, not bearing to keep the contact. Now he was really wondering how powerful elves were. Shaking his head and trying not to think of it he nudged his horse's sides and the long train headed away towards The Camp. They would make it by late afternoon, and by the next morning the prince's spirit would surely be broken.  
  
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AN ~ YAY! Chapter 3! Phew. . . Okay, reviews are welcome, as are suggestions. *Not* constructive criticism, coz that sounds negative. The key to a good life is to be positive. Like, the glass is half *full* not half *empty*. Got that? Hurrah. . . Chapter 4 up ASAP. 


	4. The Camp

DISCLAIMER ~ Same as last time. I don't own J. R. R. Tolkien's stuff.  
  
THANKS TO ~  
  
~ Devie Saves ~ Yeah, I am writing an original fic. 5 years have gone into it and it is so interesting to see how the plot eventually evolves. I've thrown myself into the deep end with it (them, it's a trilogy), but humans are adaptable creatures so by the end I suppose I will be swimming like a dolphin through the work! I don't want to post it to FictionPress coz I have connections through my job so maybe I'll get my writing published for a change instead of just my drawings!  
  
~ orligurl88 ~ The revenge! Ha ha, the revenge! You'll see . . .  
  
~ szhismine ~ I was proud of the stupid bastard part, I'm glad you liked it!  
  
~ Lyn ~ Yep, I made 'em stumble in this one. I hope it's a bit more plausible.  
  
~ Will_gurl ~ Are you American? This will be embarrassing if you are a brit like me. . . we don't have a junior or senior year of high school in Britain (please say you are American coz this will be so embarrassing if you are British). But you could say I'm a senior, coz the top 2 years of my school (year 10 and 11) are the seniors, and I'm in year 10. (I'm 14 years old).  
  
~ lolly pop ~ Thanks! I try to update ASAP but it's hard with all my coursework.  
  
~ bunny-luvver ~ Here's the next chapter, I hope you find it as interesting as the others!  
  
~ Sparrow Greenleaf ~ So you like elf torture? :D  
  
~ Lux-soap ~ Always luvvin' you. Nuff said.  
  
~ Crinkle ~ Sorry, I take very long to update but no knee begging please! :D  
  
~ Wilwarin ~ Blimey, that's a lot of elvish types! Is it confusing? It's based on Gaelic and stuff isn't it? My English teacher is Welsh and when I wrote out Arwen's Ford Summoning Spell thingy on the board he recognised some of the words.  
  
~ Black Hawk ~ No, The Bridle does not have a bit, but some of them have blinkers but not on Legolas' or Haldir's or Elladan's or Elrohir's.  
  
~ ElvenRanger13 ~ I TAKE IT YOU LIKE TO USE CAPITAL LETTERS! :D  
  
NOTE ~ (. . . . . .) = elvish  
  
NOTE ~ This idea of mine is odd. You may accept it; you may not. I have also had to invent a new wizard; he is The Black, y'know, like Saruman the White and Gandalf the Grey. It is an odd idea, well I think so anyway. Please tell me what you think afterwards. I am very wary of the fact that this might be a total flop.  
  
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Chapter Four ~ The Camp  
  
So onwards they trudged, up the hills and down the hills, through the dells and along the gorges. Dim Jim was being his usual grumpy self, refusing to walk on and holding up the train. Rularian's temper was running short, the sun was high and they needed to reach the camp before nightfall at least. It was the hottest time of the day and the elves were suffering. Rularian rode up and down the train, checking his men and the elves. He saw the elves licking their dry lips often, hanging their heads and tripping every now and then. The prince looked the worse of the four, his wounds had split and his back was a mess of blood and dust. The man knew that the gashes would soon become infected.  
  
'HALT!' he roared.  
  
They train came to a halt and all eyes turned to the back and rested upon their leader.  
  
'Banes, Landan, get here now!'  
  
Banes and Landan dismounted before hurrying to Rularian.  
  
'Landan, give the elves some drink; they're almost dead by the looks of them. And Banes -'  
  
Rularian looked down at the scowling man.  
  
'- Untie the prince and clean his back.'  
  
With a nod Banes silently carried out his master's wish. As the elf was untied he slumped into the arms of the man, coughing dryly. Landan held a small shallow pan of water to Legolas' mouth and the liquid was consumed gratefully. Rularian instructed Banes to lay the elf prince on the ground, face down. Together the three men carefully cleaned out the cuts. When it was done Banes looked up at his master, a dark and questioning look upon his face.  
  
'Why do you care for him so?'  
  
Rularian stared back in surprise.  
  
'He is expensive, Banes. He needs to be kept in very good condition.'  
  
Banes frowned.  
  
'Well then you should not have whipped his back into such a bad condition.'  
  
Rularian glared angrily with his teeth bared at the boldness and stupidity of the other man.  
  
'He needed punishing!'  
  
'You are contradicting your self, *master*.'  
  
The master growled and drew his sword, the sharp edge at Banes' neck. All was silent save the gentle breeze and the hunting eagles. Even Dim Jim made no noise. Banes glared darkly, though the beads of sweat rolled down his forehead.  
  
'If you question my actions one more time Banes I will have your head on a plaque.'  
  
Banes nodded quickly, knowing that incidents such as this had occurred in the past and had resulted in headless men.  
  
'Good. Now fetch me one of the spare cloaks.'  
  
Banes hurried to do his mater's bidding and returned with a clean cloak. Rularian snatched it from the other and knelt beside Legolas, lifting him up so that he was kneeling as well. Legolas did not protest; he was surprised at how weak and tired he had become. Rularian ripped up the cloak into long shreds and wrapped them around the elf's torso. He tied the material tightly at the front to stop dust getting into the wounds and to prevent further bleeding.  
  
As Rularian was tying the bits of cloak he quickly glanced at Legolas' face, expecting to see his head drooped and his eyes shut. He faltered slightly when he came eye to eye with the elf. At such a close proximity Rularian felt incredibly intimidated. He returned his eyes to the makeshift bandages, working as swiftly as possible, though he could feel the hateful glare of Legolas burning deeply into him. He wondered why this particular elf had such a hold over him.  
  
The business was done; the elves were given water and a small lump of bread each before they were tethered to the train again. Once more they set off, but this time Dim Jim decided to behave himself. He knew that the quicker they went the quicker he would get those oats at The Camp. Rularian had refrained from riding up and down to check on his men and the elves, he was far too wary of Legolas' hate to do so.  
  
Time passed slowly but the day came to the point when and sun would set within the next hour or so, meaning that it was late afternoon. Legolas took note of this and his weary eyes wandered up the slope of the steep hill that they had come to. He saw something at the distant peak. It was obviously a tall wall of some kind, fashioned from wood with barbs along the top, and within the tall wall there was a tall door where above there flickered two black flags.  
  
This was The Camp.  
  
Dim Jim set up a dreadful racket, pawing at the dust and weeds with his hoof. The men grinned and exchanged relieved glances, the elves looked stricken and pale. Rularian took a horn from his belt, which, for some reason, Legolas had not noticed before, and he put it to his lips and two lingering notes were emitted into the dry air. Two more lingering notes that came from the camp answered the noise. The vast doors were opened and out sprang a man on his horse, cantering down the lengthy but steep slant of the hill. He reached the ground and halted.  
  
'What is your business, Rularian? To beg for rations or to deliver slaves? The numbers of captured elves are falling. We need more slaves; we cannot move our siege weapons! Tell me you have slaves, man!'  
  
Rularian sneered.  
  
'Calm yourself, Beronam. Four strong and healthy ones right here. . .'  
  
The men and their horses moved apart to reveal Legolas, Haldir, Elladan and Elrohir. Beronam gasped and then grinned wickedly.  
  
'Bring them straight in.'  
  
Rularian grinned his own wicked grin and signalled to his band of men to follow him and Beronam up the hill, with the elves behind. The way up was difficult. The elves, despite the fact that they had been given water *and* food, were now very weak. As they climbed the minutes dragged on and became hours. It seemed that the top of the hill would never arrive. At last it did. They were untied from the train, though they were still tied to each other, and thrown to the ground at the feet of the colossal door that faced them, the gateway to The Camp - and their inevitable doom. Beronam took the horn that hung at his side and blew three blasts. There was a pause and then the vast doors slowly opened, the wood creaked, and the sounds from within were gradually unleashed.  
  
When the doors were fully open all the elves could do was gape in horror. There were twenty or so elves tethered beside what looked like stables, though the beings were hardly recognisable as elves. Within the centre of the large Camp was an arena, nothing but a rectangular area that was fenced in. At either side of the arena were stables, horses on the right side, elves on the left. Beyond that fenced in rectangle were huts, probably where the men slept. Legolas could see them milling about, some grooming the horses, others punishing the elves and a few were seeing to the part of the fence that was damaged.  
  
Rularian glanced around, his eyes searching. After a minute or two he found who he was searching for and rode over, ordering his men to follow with the slaves. Legolas, along with the others, saw no need to run or refuse so they slowly followed the men who were heading to the other side of The Camp. They chose to go down the left hand side of the arena. The sight of the other enslaved elves was awful. Legolas eyed them with pity. Their scales shone in the sun, their scars glared angrily and their faces were filled with a sadness that ripped out Legolas' heart. He sharply turned his head and kept his eyes on the hooves of the horse in front of him.  
  
When they all reached the other side they stopped. Legolas saw a man and a wizard in conversation. He was not Mithrandir or Saruman, not even Radagast the Brown who Legolas had only heard of. This wizard was garbed from head to foot in black robes. His long, long beard was black as was his equally long hair, and his spiralled staff was carved from the darkest wood that Legolas had ever seen. He turned his eyes to the man. He had dark brown hair just like Rularian, and was tall and brawny - Legolas frowned - just like Rularian.  
  
'Rulorion! Brother dear!' cried Rularian, giving his sibling a mock bow, bending ridiculously low and twirling his hands with a flourish.  
  
'Rularian! Darling brat!' came the cheery reply. Rularian straightened immediately and gave his brother a scowl.  
  
'I have brought *four* slaves for you!'  
  
Rulorion, (a stupidly similar name to Rularian if Legolas was to be asked) walked over to inspect the elves. Rularian grasped Haldir's shoulder.  
  
'This one is called Haldir; he is from Lothlórien. He is strong and tame.'  
  
Rulorion nodded. Rularian went to the next.  
  
'These are the twin sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir.'  
  
Again Rulorion nodded. 'Very good,' he said.  
  
At last Rularian came to Legolas.  
  
'And *this*,' he said excitedly, 'is Prince Legolas of Mirkwood!'  
  
Rulorion gasped, as did the Black Wizard.  
  
'A prince!' he stammered. 'Are you quite mad?'  
  
Rularian's excited grin faltered. His big brother did not seem pleased.  
  
'Rularian. . .'  
  
The younger brother grimaced.  
  
'I love you more than ever! You sly one! A prince! How did you do it? That will show those elves!'  
  
He clapped his hand on his young brother's shoulder and said sincerely and dramatically, 'I think we need a long talk.'  
  
They laughed and briefly embraced before Rulorion faced the elves.  
  
'You are *my* slaves now. You will do as I say and no doubt you have heard the rest of this lecture from my brother. In the morning you will fully become one of my slaves and Daltreth the Black will see to that. Beronam! Take them to their new stables. In fact, put them all in. And don't forget to bolt those bloody doors like you did last time! It is a good thing the elves were too tired to realise that the door were not locked. . . '  
  
Beronam nodded, Rulorion and Rularian along with Daltreth went into the living quarters while Rularian's band dismounted and went to see to their horses. Legolas, Haldir, Elladan and Elrohir found themselves being dragged away towards the Elf Stables by several strong men. They saw the other elves being untied and led away, and noticed they wore mesh muzzles, for the mens' safety most likely, judging by the mouths of fangs all around. Legolas shuddered. He would look like that in the morning when Daltreth the Black had cast his dark magic. His eyes would glitter in a sinister way. His hands would become claws, a useful weapon, only to be blunted for safety. His teeth would be fangs, another weapon, and they would be kept behind a muzzle. His legs would be scaly and dragonish and he would go on all fours like an animal, his tail sweeping out behind. Legolas was not looking forward to becoming a beast of burden.  
  
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AN ~ Who has written their Christmas list? ME ME ME!!!! Anyway. . . I told you it was an odd idea. I'll only know if *you* think it's odd if you review. I won't change it if you don't like it because I can't, and I won't give up either. Chapter 5 up ASAP. 


	5. The Wouldbe Rescuer

DISCLAIMER ~ Same as last time. I don't own J. R. R. Tolkien's stuff.  
  
THANKS TO ~  
  
~ Rabbit of Iron ~ Sorry for updating without you checking the chapter! I wasn't sure if you had forgotten about it and I really wanted to get it up!  
  
~ IrishQT ~ Greetings, mad one. There is a bit more angst in this, and PLENTY in the one after. (I think the one after might be a bit gory, not sure yet).  
  
~ Wilwarin ~ Yeah, I know about the 5 Istari. It's just that I didn't want to use Saruman for my evil magic maker, and the only explanation that I could think of was to invent and new wizard. I'm trying not to make it *too* AU.  
  
~ Elven Kitten ~ Truly freaky indeed. It gets worse. ^_^  
  
~ Lux-soap ~ Hiya! Always luvvin' you! And lay off the bloody gin!  
  
~ orligurl88 ~ Thanks! And I think you should do your Christmas list! It's almost December!  
  
~ all who wander ~ Thank you! Sorry it's taken so long to update!  
  
~ szhismine ~ I'm glad you think the new wizard is a great twist! And thanks for saying that it was an excellent chapter! Aragorn is there only hope, but I think you need to read on. . .  
  
~Tarostar ~ I changed it now. Thanks for the suggestion! I never really thought it as disturbing.  
  
NOTE ~ Sorry for the delay!  
  
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Chapter Five ~ The Would-be Rescuer  
  
The night was clear, the stars were bright and Aragorn lay on a patch of dry bracken. His arm gave him no rest; it throbbed relentlessly. Brego stood nearby in a dozy state, with his head drooping, his ears back and a resting hoof. Next to him was Brïona, who returned to the man and his horse, quaking with fright and sweating all over. Aragorn had comforted her, and gave her a bit of Lembas, for the horses of elves love the waybread as much as their masters do. Now all three were still and silent. They had tracked the men and their captives all the way to the Camp, and there it lay in the distance. The torches flickered in the night breeze and Aragorn could just make out the black flags as they flitted about on their posts.  
  
His good friends Legolas and Haldir, along with his foster brothers Elladan and Elrohir were now in there, waiting for whatever Fate had in store for them. Aragorn did not know the enigmatic plans of Fate, but judging by the barbs and guards of the Camp he knew that the plan would not be good, and that the elves were most definitely supposed to stay within the walls.  
  
A grave expression was carved upon Aragorn's handsome face, and as the slight wind blew his dark locks into his eyes he did not even bat and eyelid. Hordes of questions jammed his mind. Did the king of Rohan know of this? He doubted it. Aragorn had met the king once before with Legolas on their travels, and the noble Théoden seemed to hold a wary sort of respect for the elvish race. Though after the drought and the orc attack Aragorn wondered if that respect was still in tact. He frowned. Who were these men that captured elves? The answer to that he had to guess. Perhaps they were exiles, driven into acts of malice and greed by the terrible fortune of Rohan. Last of all, the question that had been gnawing at his mind the most, what was to become of the imprisoned elves? It was a question that he could never answer without further knowledge of the Camp, and it was in that moment that he decided to pay Legolas and the others a visit.  
  
**************************************************************************** ********  
  
Legolas lay quietly within his stall in a sombre mood. The Bridle still chafed his face. The straw was uncomfortable and his back forever gave him grief. He sighed. Haldir was in the stall to his left, Elladan and Elrohir were on the far right. Again he sighed and found his feet, sick of the scratching straw. The wooden wall of his stall came up to his chest, but from there to the roof strong metal bars had been placed, like a prison. The same design went for his door.  
  
Earlier on there had been light conversation from the elf-slaves who were already at the Camp and had already become a full slave of Rulorion. Legolas glanced through the bars at Haldir, who was sitting in his straw, absentmindedly tugging at his bridle.  
  
'My friend?'  
  
Haldir looked up, slightly surprised and smiled, though it was obviously strained.  
  
'What will become of us, Legolas?'  
  
'I do not know. Yet hope remains. Aragorn is still free, he will raise the alarm.'  
  
Haldir nodded, not wholly convinced that a human would save them. Legolas saw this and leant forward.  
  
'He is an unidentified king of men, Haldir. He is already seen as a king amongst men. He is noble and loyal and he will not fail us.'  
  
Haldir gazed at the determined face of the young prince of Mirkwood, marvelling at the hopeful glimmer in his eyes.  
  
'You are right, my friend. I was wrong to think that a man such as Aragorn would fail us.'  
  
Legolas smiled and turned away. He went to the other side of his stall, though he could not see Elladan and Elrohir. He looked down at the stall that separated him from the twins. An elf-slave lay sleeping in his straw. Legolas stared warily, leaning right up against the bars. His scales were black and his skin was pale. His tail was coiled like a great, long snake. The elf-slave slept, and Legolas saw that he had lost the elvish way, for his eyes were shut and a gentle snore came from his parted lips.  
  
Legolas was then startled as the other suddenly awoke, as if his gaze had pierced him like a dart, and his head turned sharply towards the prince. Their gazes locked. The eyes of the elf slave unnerved Legolas as they glowed a honey colour in the dark. He backed away from the bars as the elf- slave walked up to him on all fours, as was the habit of those who had fully become a slave.  
  
'Why do you recoil?' he said. 'We are the same within.'  
  
Legolas cautiously went back to the bars.  
  
'Pray tell young one, what do they call you?'  
  
'Legolas of Mirkwood.'  
  
The elf-slave drew a sharp breath.  
  
'The son of his majesty?'  
  
'Yes, I am Thranduil's son.'  
  
He shook his head as he looked upon Legolas with pity.  
  
'A prince in slavery. I hope there is someone looking for you?'  
  
Legolas was just about to say yes, and then he faltered. There had been no sight of Aragorn during the march to the Camp.  
  
'I was with another when I was caught. He did try to rescue the others and me but he received an arrow in the arm. He has retreated far until he is healed. Either that or he has gone to raise the alarm. He is noble, he will do all he can while he still lives.'  
  
There was a silence.  
  
'What do they call you?'  
  
'Finglas of Mirkwood.'  
  
Legolas looked up. He felt a detached pleasure that an elf of his realm was near.  
  
'What were doing outside of Mirkwood?'  
  
Finglas bowed his head.  
  
'My wife was pregnant, but there was a problem. The baby had managed to turn itself around the wrong way. An incident such as that - for a child to be born feet first - had not occurred for a long while amongst the midwives of Mirkwood and they were not eager to take the risk of delivering it themselves. So she was escorted to the Lord Elrond, who is incredibly well versed in lore of healing and so on. I am sure you already know of his skill.'  
  
Legolas nodded, eager to hear more.  
  
'I remained in Mirkwood for a while as she was not due to give birth for a week or two. Though I only remained for a few days, as I was eager to be there at the birth of my child, so I departed with great haste and rode on to Rivendell.'  
  
Finglas sighed.  
  
'Alas, I was ambushed by roaming orcs. They took me far from my trail, for what reason I do not know, but I managed to escape from their evil clutches and I ended up in fair Lothlórien.'  
  
Then he smiled, as one does when a fond memory arises.  
  
'And the Lady! She was beautiful! O how she radiates light and splendour! She was gracious and offered her kind help. I gladly accepted. There was a man there. It was Banes, but back in Lórien I did not know of his malice. I asked how he came to the Wood and he claimed that he had been chased there by wild orcs. "Hath the cauldron of evil no lid to contain what lies within?" That is what I said. Though I was suspicious. It seemed odd that all these orcs were roaming out of their rancid dens.'  
  
Legolas stared at Finglas with wide eyes. Banes had been in Lothlórien?  
  
'I spoke to Banes on the night that I stayed in Lórien. "I am going to the Shire," he said. "Where peace is always present and where the halflings are kind and merry. Orcs do not roam that unblemished land and beyond, so I will, for I am sick and tired of those filthy beasts. I wish to escape from them."'  
  
Finglas snorted.  
  
'A likely tale. But perhaps it was true, I thought to myself as he told me. It is a terrible pity that the story was not true. So when it was time we left the Golden Wood together, for our paths were entwined - they would have been if Banes was really going to the Shire - and he said he would "drop me off" at Rivendell. Though as you already know he is treacherous. He delivered a heavy blow to my head and when I awoke I was here. He must have given me a sleeping draught along the way. Elves do not remain unconscious for that long.'  
  
Legolas pitied Finglas, feeling miserable as the other sighed heavily.  
  
'And that is the tale of Finglas.'  
  
He looked up at Legolas with his sad amber eyes. There was a long pause, and then Legolas whispered a question to Finglas.  
  
'Did it hurt, Finglas?'  
  
'Did what hurt?'  
  
'When they changed you?'  
  
There was no answer for a long time.  
  
'I do not wish to scare you but - yes, it hurt. It was agony.'  
  
Legolas gasped. He looked back at Finglas, who had a faraway look on his face.  
  
'We all have black scales. . .' he said faintly. 'All of the elves. From Rivendell. . . Lothlórien and Mirkwood. . . But the eyes. The eyes are different. Amber of Mirkwood. . . Blue of Lórien. . . Green of Rivendell. 'Tis a thing I have noticed. . .'  
  
A sudden scraping of the roof made them both jump. Legolas hurried to his door and peered up through the bars. He gasped in shock as a grinning face popped over the edge.  
  
'Aragorn!'  
  
'Hush! The guard on the wall up there is asleep but the others are awake!'  
  
Legolas beamed as Aragorn leapt to the ground with all the skill and grace of an elf. His eyes shone with ecstasy as the man began to pick the lock of his door with his dagger, a trick that Elladan and Elrohir had taught him when he was young. There was a clank and Legolas stepped out, grinning as though his very life depended upon it. He turned to Aragorn and gave him a warm embrace.  
  
'Aragorn, you must let the others out now!'  
  
'Of course,' came the reply. 'You do know how to unpick a lock do you not?'  
  
Legolas smiled and nodded as Aragorn handed him his other dagger. His smile faltered.  
  
'How will we get out of the Camp?'  
  
Aragorn looked up as he headed towards the stall of Finglas.  
  
'I bound and gagged the sleeping guard. We will climb up onto the roof here, then over the wall. But we must be as silent as death itself, we cannot risk getting caught.'  
  
Legolas nodded, glancing over his shoulder at the living quarters where most of the men were. He could hear their drunken singing and he could see them dancing about through the windows. He then looked to the walls. There were not many guards, it seemed as though they were very confident that the elf-slaves would not and could not escape. Aragorn gasped.  
  
'What? What is wrong, Aragorn?'  
  
Aragorn looked over at Legolas, having just unpicked the lock of another stall.  
  
'What's wrong? That is what's wrong! What happened to him?'  
  
Legolas watched as Finglas came striding out of his stall in his beast-like way, in a manner much akin to that of a prowling warg.  
  
'I will explain later, my friend. There is no time to talk now.'  
  
He turned back to the lock on Haldir's stall.  
  
'There you go, Haldir,' he said as the door opened. 'I told you he would not fail us.'  
  
Haldir smiled and went to hide in the shadows while the rest were freed. Legolas was unpicking another lock when he felt warm breath on his neck. He jumped and spun around, expecting to see Rulorion or his brother, Rularian.  
  
'Finglas! What are you doing?'  
  
'I am watching. I could never unpick locks, I wish I had taught myself to do so.'  
  
Legolas shook his head and proceeded with his task. He let out a slight yelp as the door banged open and the elf-slave within came bounding out, blind in his delight at being free. And blind he was indeed, for he ploughed headlong into Finglas, and they tumbled across the dirt in a tangle of arms, legs and tails. Finglas picked himself up and glared at the young one before him, who happened to be from Rivendell.  
  
'Are you blind? Watch your step!'  
  
The other growled, and Legolas watched aghast, as the beasts within the elves were unleashed. It seemed that along with the appearance of the animals that they were half turned into; they also acquired half of the temper and the instincts. Finglas growled and prepared to pounce; while the young one from Rivendell did the same.  
  
'Finglas! No!'  
  
Finglas looked up at Legolas, as if he had only just noticed he was there, and blinked like one returning from a trance or waking from a faint.  
  
'Legolas, I am sorry. I do not know why I was doing that. I suppose it comes from this curse that has changed me. . .'  
  
'Finglas!'  
  
'Wha-'  
  
The elf-slave of Rivendell had pounced and bought Finglas to the ground. He snarled ferociously, lashing out with his tail and scratching with his blunt claws. Legolas panicked; worried that Rulorion and his men might hear the clamour. Aragorn carried on unpicking locks, but was repeatedly turning to see what was happening.  
  
'Legolas! Do not stop! We must release them!'  
  
Legolas tore his eyes away from the fighting elf-slaves. There was a sudden braying and a few shouts from the patrolling guards up on the wall.  
  
'That noisy donkey!" hissed Legolas. 'He is sure to alert everyone!'  
  
He looked up to see guards running along the walls to the ladders, scrambling to get down towards the source of trouble.  
  
'Aragorn!' cried Legolas. 'What to do?'  
  
The man glanced frantically about, his flushed face blanching as his eyes landed upon the Living Quarters. Legolas turned also. The drunken clamour from within had ceased, and the shadows in the windows had stopped dancing and making conversation. The main door swung open, nearly flying off its hinges and almost banging back to close on itself. There stood a silhouette in the yellow glow of the fires and candles from inside. It was Rulorion. The harsh din of Jim and the shouts of the guards running towards them were the only sounds that Legolas, Aragorn and the elf-slaves could hear. Finlay and his opponent had stopped fighting.  
  
'RUN!' bellowed Aragorn to the scanty numbers that had been released.  
  
'Aragorn! What of the others? We cannot leave them -'  
  
'We cannot free them now! We must raise the alarm and return with help!'  
  
Legolas nodded. They had enough evidence to prove what was going on. He sprinted after his friends and kin but everyway they turned there was a dozen of men armed with swords, daggers and bows and arrows. The elf-slaves tried to help, pouncing on the foes but their muzzles and blunt claws were useless, and when Finglas received an arrow in his shoulder it was decided that they would have to face what was coming for them. At last a circle of armed men surrounded them. The ranks were deep and many men had to shuffle out of the way as Rulorion marched over. He seemed the very epitome of fury.  
  
He strode up to Aragorn and wrapped his long, strong fingers around the others neck, seething and hissing, coming nose to nose with him. Aragorn did not even blink. His striking face was passive and he held his clever head high. Te king within him shone through, and even though Rulorion did not know that this man before him had rights to the Gondorion throne he quavered beneath the fierce and fiery glare of those sharp, grey eyes. He turned to address his men.  
  
'Morning does not hasten or hinder for any force on this Middle Earth! It will not come now for this man! His fate shall fall now! Fetch the Black Wizard!'  
  
The circle broke momentarily as Daltreth came forth. His black robes billowed and his black eyes glittered with evil. Rularian used the temporary path that Daltreth had cut through the men and he hurried through to join his brother, who made a signal with his arm, to which four men stepped up and restrained and now livid Aragorn.  
  
'Restrain the elf-slaves!' shouted Rularian as his big brother went to talk with the wizard. 'And bring the other elves!'  
  
More men hurried forward to hold back Legolas, Haldir, Elladan and Elrohir, who all struggled but eventually submitted to the brawny men. Through gaps in the thick crowd Legolas saw Aragorn thrashing about as a metal collar was clamped to his neck. It was chained to a bulky, iron ring in the centre of the arena. The elf felt distressed and hurt to see his noble and beloved friend fighting against a force that was beating him, and finally he gave up, panting through a bloody mouth, staring out with two almost blind black eyes and groping about with his battered arms. A sad and fathomless admiration swelled up inside Legolas when he saw the seemingly eternal look of determination on Aragorn's beaten face.  
  
Rularian had been gazing at Legolas with a sneer, which fell to an expression of deep thought at the look of devoted respect descend upon the fair features. He glanced over at the man that this elf respected, but he could not see anything about the bruised face that was worthy of respect. He sneered again and spoke to Legolas.  
  
'Now, my elven prince, you will see how it is to become a slave.' He sniggered. 'But I'm afraid your darling would-be rescuer must go first. He needs to be punished for his foolishness. . .'  
  
The smirk broadened and the snigger grew as he turned to watch Daltreth weave his evil magic.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
AN ~ Wow! That was a bit long! Sorry it has taken such a long time for me to get this up! My beta's computer buggered up, and I think she forgot about the chapter, so sorry for any mistakes! I dunno if her computers are fixed or not. Well, please tell me what you think. Good or bad stuff (preferably good stuff! ^_^ ), suggestions, pointing out of obvious mistakes and so on. Chapter 6 up ASAP! 


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